Needs
by The Dream Whisperer
Summary: There are things Mori needs that Honey can't give him. And there are things Kyouya needs that only Mori understands. Four scenes four revelations. MoriKyouya.


**Needs**

**Characters/Pairings: **Mori/Kyouya  
**Rating: **PG  
**Words:** 2036  
**Summary: **There are things Mori needs that Honey can't give him. And there are things Kyouya needs that only Mori understands. Four scenes; four revelations.

**one;**

Mori-senpai is a protector: this everyone knows. One only needs to see how he protects Honey-senpai from the world, from his family and – the most difficult task of all – from himself to see that. His loyal, starry-eyed fans liken him to a samurai to their butterfly; a knight in shining armour to their damsel in distress; their silent Prince Charming to their sleeping Princess.

Mori-senpai _needs_ to be protected: this Kyouya knows. Mori-senpai needs to be protected from himself.

Mori-senpai takes the burden of the Morinozuka family (_"It's only right," Kyouya could almost hear him murmur, "because I am the heir, the oldest son")_ and the Host Club (_"I am the oldest, it's my responsibility"_) upon himself. He takes all the unwanted responsibilities of the Haninozuka family up upon his own shoulders as easily as he picks up Honey-senpai's briefcase. Almost unconsciously, Mori-senpai protects everyone by taking all of their burdens.

_And that is why,_ Kyouya thinks, sharp eyes hidden behind his glasses as he watches Mori, _Mori-senpai needs to be protected_.

Mori-senpai has surprisingly thin shoulders for one of his stature, Kyouya observes, wondering almost detachedly if – or even _when_ – those slender shoulders will break under the weight of everything Mori-senpai chooses to place upon them.

Kyouya protects Mori-senpai by protecting everyone else in the Host Club. He takes care of Tamaki by managing the finances and the mundane semantics of all those fantasies and schemes his best friend has. Tamaki can dream this way, dream and remain as himself, unhindered by life's cruel realities. This way, Hikaru and Kaoru have a chance to see the 'outside world,' and Haruhi can experience the joys of the world outside her studies and books. This way, Honey-senpai can remain 'Honey-senpai' instead of the Haninozuka heir, letting Mori-senpai take care of and be needed by him.

(If one asks, Kyouya say that, of course, those are the _only _reasons why he protects Tamaki. But, as surely as the sun rises during dawn, he will be lying.)

Kyouya protects Haruhi by shielding her against those awful and thoughtless remarks made by some of Ouran's students with his influence and subtle threats. His glasses are good tools for this. He looks after the twins by keeping silent about how he could tell them apart after the first month of their joining the Host Club, choosing to let Haruhi be the 'first' – he will not, he _cannot_, draw them out of their enclosed world the way only Haruhi can. Kyouya takes care of Honey-senpai by reducing his sugar intake in the Club, for diabetes and cavities are very real dangers. He knows that Mori-senpai will not be able to do this, thus he takes over the job.

(Of course, all these measures benefit _him_ on certain levels – this is only to be expected).

Kyouya does all this so Mori-senpai doesn't have to; so he doesn't have the extra weight of the Host Club's burdens to carry on those too-slender shoulders.

**two;**

To most of the school and the majority of all who has made his acquaintance, Ohtori Kyouya is the textbook perfect image of the ideal (third) son: well-bred, talented, and obedient to his parents' wishes. To Haruhi, Hikaru and Kaoru, he is 'the Shadow King,' the senpai with the glinting glasses and the scary smile. To Tamaki, Kyouya is his protector, his best friend, the 'okaa-san' to his 'otou-san.' To Honey-senpai, he is the very capable kouhai who, like him and Mori, is an audience to the comedy of errors that is Tamaki, Haruhi and the twins.

Kyouya, Mori sees, has one great secret wish, one buried so deeply inside himself that only one with eyes and a heart like Mori's can see them. Not even Kyouya himself knows of this wish – the most insightful and observant of people are blind to their own wants and faults and hopes. This Mori knows very well, for he is the same.

Kyouya, Mori _knows_, wants to be seen as himself.

Kyouya has many, many masks, so many that Mori is sure that not even the boy himself knows how many there are. Mori can only name a few - the Shadow King, the Dutiful Son, the Tolerant Best Friend, the Obedient Brother, the Demon Lord, the Brilliant but Modest Student (or son), the Young Master, and the Money-Grubber – but he recognises all of them. They are not Kyouya's true face.

Each and every one of those masks has a specific use and a specific situation in which to be used. Even if Kyouya is thrown into a new situation, it takes a mere few seconds (or minutes, if one is lucky) before a new mask is crafted and Kyouya is hiding his true self behind it.

Kyouya, Mori thinks, uses masks so much that his real face has probably paled to translucence from the lack of sunlight.

Kyouya is a contradictory boy (not man; none of them are men yet) with a contradictory wish: he fears being seen as who he really is, but, at the same time, he desperately wants someone to strip away all of his many masks and just _see _his true self.

In that way, Mori supposes, he's a little like the twins.

Mori has always thought masks to be rather ridiculous things, what with their painted (or carved out) smiles and black, hole-like eyes. The skin of a mask is too smooth, too cool, too _perfect_ to be anything remotely resembling a human face; too frozen with its false smile and insincere eyes. Mori does not respect masks, and chooses to disregard them entirely.

Mori sees who Kyouya _really_ is.

He sees Kyouya as a boy with a frozen half-smile because he has almost (not yet) forgotten how to truly smile. He sees a boy trying to be a man to fulfil his father's expectations, to _exceed_ those same expectations. He sees a boy who loves his best friend but will never voice that love, because he believes emotions to be weak. He sees an inherently selfish child who, despite his own logic and words, helps and protects the ones he cares about behind his Shadow King façade, never seeking recognition for all that he has done for them.

Mori sees all of these. He sees the flaws and insecurities and fears reflected in the slightest shifts of Kyouya's eyelids, the changes of light in those night-dark eyes, the smallest quickening of breath, the unconscious movements that all humans, no matter how controlled or how disciplined, make. Mori is an accomplished kendoist, after all.

And, because of what he sees, he treats Kyouya not as 'the third son of the Ohtori family', not as 'the Shadow King', not as a typical kouhai in need of guidance; definitely not as the 'mother' of the dysfunctional little family that calls itself the Host Club.

Mori treats Kyouya as a boy who has stepped out of the path he has been pushed into since he was born; a boy who is searching for his own road, who is confused and lost and determined all at once; a boy who is almost a man, but not quite there yet.

Mori treats Kyouya like an _equal_.

**three;**

Kyouya knows that Mori-senpai sees who he really is, and he is afraid.

To hide himself from others is only half the reason he wears his masks. The other half of the reason is that Kyouya despises his true self, despises that tiny part of it that is insecure and afraid and sometimes just wants a shelter from the rapidly-enclosing world. He is scared of so many things, sometimes, so afraid that his knees go weak and he has to close his eyes to shut out the world and its expectations of him. He fears not being named as heir no matter how hard he works; he's afraid that one day, the Host Club will have to dissipate and there will be no place where he doesn't have to hide any more. His greatest fear is that one day Tamaki and Mori-senpai and everyone will leave him behind, chasing after great things, or he might be too caught up in his family's politics that he leaves _them_ behind, so far away that when he turns back, he can't see his friends any more.

Kyouya wears his masks to prevent people from seeing his true face because they might find out this cursed weakness of his.

No Ohtori should have any weakness. This is law.

Mori-senpai sees his one weakness, Kyouya knows. Mori-senpai has told him this, once, when the Club is over and Honey-senpai is waiting for him at the door:

"We will never leave you completely alone, Kyouya. Not even if you want us to."

Kyouya doesn't know how Mori-senpai can see through his masks so easily. He has spent most of his life crafting these masks, perfecting them to an art form, so much that they seem like his true face no matter how many glances or stares you take.

Not even Tamaki can see these fears of his. Tamaki sees the calculating side of his true self. He sees his strengths and ambitions and goals and dreams and wishes – Tamaki has great insight about these things.

But Tamaki is blind to most people's weaknesses. He likes to pretend that his friends, his loved ones, have no weaknesses. Tamaki is blind to Kyouya's faults.

Mori isn't.

And Mori is here, now, standing just three steps away from Kyouya, hands shoved inside his pockets. He looks uncharacteristically nervous, and Kyouya can almost swear that he is biting his lower lip as he gaze straight into Kyouya's eyes.

Honey-senpai is nowhere in sight, and the Host Club is not due to start for another twenty minutes. (Kyouya is always the first to arrive to prepare all that they need to serve their honoured customers).

He opens his mouth to ask if there's anything he can help Mori-senpai with, or if is he looking for Honey-senpai or… Kyouya's train of thought screeches into a halt when he finds that Mori-senpai is not three steps away any more – he is right in front of Kyouya, dark eyes inscrutable. This is the only warning.

Then there are two fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and Kyouya barely manages to close his mouth when he feels lips descending on his own, pressing gently. His eyes widen.

_Mori-senpai is kissing me,_ Kyouya thinks, stating the obvious. The kiss is everything and nothing like what Kyouya has always expected kisses to be like. For one, he never thought he would have to tilt his head upwards when kissing. For another, he has never thought that he would be kissing _Mori-senpai_, but he finds that he doesn't mind. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Kyouya's eyes slide close as Mori-senpai nibbles on his lower lip. He opens his mouth, and there is a tongue, Mori-senpai's tongue, licking at the bit lip before entering his mouth, gently. There is a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly as if to comfort him. The fingers under his chin slides downwards until they rest on his other shoulder. There is enough pressure to keep him in place, but not enough to hurt.

Mori-senpai's lips are slightly dry and chapped, and his hands feel very warm through the cloth of Kyouya's uniform. Kyouya finds himself being held against Mori-senpai's chest, a hand migrating to his hair to stroke it gently.

Strangely enough, Kyouya has no urge to pull away.

Perhaps… perhaps it is because he has seen Mori-senpai's weakness and Mori-senpai has seen his and they have helped each other. Perhaps it is a certain camaraderie they share as their best friends' protectors. Perhaps it is the vague sort of attraction he has always felt towards the older boy (not man, not yet). Perhaps it is all of these and something that Kyouya is still unable to name.

For once in his life, Kyouya decides that reason and logic don't matter in this moment, and kisses Mori back.

**four;**

Mori kisses Kyouya because they understand each other in ways that not even their best friends can.

They give each other what is _needed_.

_End_


End file.
